Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

The entire Whiterun interlude had been a mistake. Jongdae had intended nothing more than to offer aid to the guards of the small city and help to protect its citizens before continuing on his way to Winterhold College, far to the northeast. He wasn’t even aware that Dragonborn existed, much less that he himself was one. He never asked to be a Nord legend, but it didn’t seem like he had much choice in the matter – fate had decided for him. Even so, he had allowed himself to stand before the Jarl as his life changed around his shoulders.

“I wonder that the Greybeards even notice what’s going on down here. They haven’t seemed to care before.” A heavy sigh billowed in the patriarch’s chest, heaving the worry from his mind. “No matter. Go to High Hrothgar. Learn what the Greybeards can teach you.”
Jongdae nodded, subservient and nonchalant as he made to take his leave. Grand halls were all well and good, but he had no place in this one. Stopped in their infancy, however, his leather-bound footsteps didn’t even have half a chance to echo on the fine wooden flooring.
“You have done a great service for me and my city, Dragonborn.” Attention well and truly caught, Jongdae’s eyebrow rose. He wasn’t in this for reward, simply peace of mind. “By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It’s the greatest honour that’s within my power to grant. I assign you Zitao as a personal Housecarl, and this weapon from my armoury to serve as your badge of office.”
A Housecarl, Jongdae mused as he appraised the steel clad warrior knelt before him, black locks enshrouding his downturned head.

“You don’t have to follow me everywhere.” Jongdae hummed into the froth-lined rim of his tankard. Behind him, he could feel Zitao (or Tao as he preferred to be called) staring into the back of his head with an eerie fervour he had come to recognise in the six short hours he had known the man. Even so, its familiarity didn’t dim its intensity, nor its ability to displace the relaxation brought from the Nord bard’s musical tales.

“Then where would you have me go?” The deferent drone of Zitao’s voice had become familiar too, but Jongdae brushed it off with a sip of warming mead. He had already grown accustomed to his characterless and minimal speech.

“Stay in Breezehome if you like. I won’t be needing it or your services much longer.” Jongdae motioned for the other, much taller man, to sit beside him rather than stand awkwardly to attention. He followed, as if it was an order, and perched uncomfortably on the bench. “If you don’t like it, you can always go back to Dragonsreach, it’s up to you really.”

Tao shook his head solemnly, decorative jewellery glinting in the dim light of the fire as his eyes were cast into shadow.

“I can take care of myself you know.” Jongdae elaborated with a kind smile that stretched out his already predominant bone structure. To look at him, you would think otherwise, but his magical abilities were far progressed – to a standard high enough to see him up and down the Throat of the World if he so chose. “These hands can work wonders.”

“I’m sure they can, my thane.” Jongdae’s brow furrowed at the tone of Tao’s voice, but again saw off the worry with a taste of his drink. “But I would like to accompany you on your travels, as insurance.”

For a while they looked at each other, and continued to do so throughout the night, until Jongdae’s tankard had drained of its contents and the fire had burnt out to no more than embers.  As they stepped over the threshold of Breezehome, goodnights were bidden and nothing more was said on the matter, sleep being the only thing on either man’s mind.

Dawn broke in much the same way, silent and heavy with the weight of a poor night’s slumber. Even so, Jongdae tiptoed about his room for fear of creaking the floorboards while Zitao slept on downstairs. After dressing, equipping himself and ransacking his chest for supplies, he headed out of the door and out of Whiterun, making sure to acquire the use of a grey mare before locking his gaze on his mountainous destination. A swift kick to the horse’s flank was all it took to have her speeding, full canter, over the bleak hills and towards the yet bleaker shadow on the horizon.

Strong willed and even stronger hoofed, the mare stormed on, paying no mind to the wolves that lurked nearby. They were nothing more than granite blurs lost amongst the sea of mossy green. It would take more than that to break her from her course, Jongdae soon learnt.

As the foot of the mountain grew near, the ancient boulders that formed the jagged and cruel landscape became larger, closer together. The perfect hiding place.

Instinct took hold before Jongdae could even open his mouth – the mare screeched an ear-splitting bray and reared on her hind legs with such bestial force that Jongdae was sent tumbling, unable to prevent himself from falling to the dusty ground with an almighty thud.

What in the world?!

And then he heard it, the wordless yells, the shuffling footsteps… the unmistakable sing of a swinging blade.

Bandits and lots of them.

Without thinking, he rolled to the left just as the short sword sliced through the place his head had occupied only moments before. Next he threw up his hand, surging blasts of lightning power into the face of his assailant. It wasn’t enough – it couldn’t be enough – he was outnumbered a dozen to one, injured from his impromptu dismount with no hopes of swift retreat. But alas, Jongdae was a Dragonborn…. He’d be damned if he wasn’t going down without a fight.

Scrabbling to his feet, he continued to unleash celestial wrath on the raiders with one hand while focusing on summoning a Familiar to fight alongside him with the other. It was a delicate balance but it was working, several of the bandits had collapsed… Whether they were dead or simply knocked out he didn’t know, or care.

It was only when the Familiar was conjured, ethereal fur shimmering as it tackled an axe wielding bandit to the ground, that his worst fears were confirmed. His magicka had run dry, naught but the tiniest of sparks bursting from his palms despite his effort. With no other alternative, he reached for his belt, unsheathing the emergency blade that was secured to his waist… There were still five men left and his Familiar had dispersed into the ether.

With one last fit of courage, he stormed towards them, head held proud as he fought for his life. His body twisted and curved, balance tested as he dodged blows and dealt them in equal measure until-

An unfortunate parry sent his sword sailing into the air, where it inevitably landed, far out of his reach. This was it; they were rounding on him and cackling like wicked vultures as they bore their weaponry in taunt. His mage garbs would never protect him from a steel edge… He closed his eyes, took a deep clarifying breath and accepted his destiny. He was going to die.

At least that’s what he thought.

His eyes were torn open as a gloved hand struck at his core, pushing him over backwards out of the way and winding him all at once. Confused and struggling for breath, he tried to distinguish the noises that assaulted his eardrums – the clash of metal upon metal, strangled cries and deafening thuds as bodies fell to the floor. Before he knew it… It was all over and a rough hand on his shoulder was dragging him to his feet.
Unable to help himself, he wrenched his eyes open to be greeted not by the swirling, greedy depths of a thief’s gaze, but the mystifyingly blackened irises of an ally.  

“You didn’t lie,” Zitao hummed, his once characterless voice suddenly abundant with feeling, namely amusement, and bouncing intonation. With a flick of his wrist, he expelled the blood from his thin but evidently powerful blade. “Your hands truly can work wonders.”

Sheepish and bashful, Jongdae scratched at his neck before searching the closest body for food or herbs though neither were about his person. The whole ordeal had left him shaken up, but less so than he had imagined… Then again, he had taken on a dragon and won, could men really scare him after that? Still, he had Tao to thank for his life.

“Neither did you.” He replied, pointedly not looking at the Housecarl or the cat like smile that graced his face, head tilted with ebon hair wafting in the low breeze. “Though I would say your role is more of reassurance, than of insurance.”

Noting the subtle compliment, Tao’s grin widened into a breathy laugh which was returned in equal spirits by the newly appointed Thane.

“My presence is reassuring?” He teased, as Jongdae felt his cheeks burn with unwanted colour. There was something about the manner in which he asked the question, as if he knew but wanted to see Jongdae squirm, that set him alight. Their gaze broke, maintained only for a short second, as the mage deliberately strode on, pausing only at the very foot of the mountain.

“Then rest assured that I will see you to the top of this crag and down again, if you so desire.”

The words bounced off the back of Jongdae’s head but immobilised him regardless. What reply could he give? It was evident now just how useful a companion could be… Not to mention the fact that company would be a fine commodity as he hiked to the peak.

“I think that would be okay.” Jongdae smiled softly, turning back to catch the reciprocated expression, easy and light hearted. Quickly, it flashed into a devilish smirk as Zitao bent at the knees and waist, plunging into a deep, spread-armed bow.

“As you wish, my Thane.”